Magnetism
by Robincall22
Summary: Draco returns to sixth year with two tasks: kill Dumbledore and torture Harry Potter. The question is, will Draco be able to do the impossible and torture the Golden Boy, or will the way the setting sun reflects in his fiery green eyes bring a light to his dark life? Will his love for Harry triumph over his love for his family? Or will he let love slip through his fingers?
1. The Train

**Okay, so obviously this varies somewhat from the actual novel. And Fred probably won't be too important of a character, but he's still my favourite, so expect him to show up at some point. Also, I'm giving you all TRIGGER WARNINGS right now that there is abuse, self-harm, and thoughts and possibly attempts of suicide in this story. If those are any triggers of yours, I advise you to read on at your own risk.**

 **Prologue**

Returning for my sixth year at Hogwarts was going to be the worst year yet. Not only because of torture of Potter always being around me, but because of the tasks _he_ had given me for this year. I was expected not only to kill Dumbledore but to painfully torture Harry simply for _his_ entertainment. I would rather kill my family than hurt Harry at all. Unbeknownst to him, or anyone else for that matter, he was the only reason I made it through fifth year. Last year had been terrible, what with _his_ return, and thus my father's return to darkness. I still had painful burns all along my back from when I spoke badly of _him_ a month ago. It had been Harry's birthday, and I had said, "You know, he's obviously not all powerful if he was beaten by a one year old, than again by that baby at eleven, then again when he was twelve, then again when he was fourteen." I had suffered for it, but I just let myself go numb when it happened, so I wouldn't cry, but I considered it my birthday present to Harry.

Boarding the train quickly as to get away from my parents as soon as possible, I made a path to make sure Crabbe and Goyle wouldn't see me, at least not at first. I made my way to the prefects meeting, groaning internally when I saw Weasley and Granger there. It's not that I disliked them, it's just that I got insanely jealous whenever I saw them, even though I knew they had a thing for each other. Ignoring everything said the entire meeting, I eventually made my way through the train, walking back and forth a few times, before it got too painful to walk. I entered my compartment, finding, Blaise, Pansy, Crabbe, and Goyle, already waiting there for me. I sat awkwardly, grimacing.

At one point, Blaise went to go meet with Slughorn, the new Potions teacher. When he returned a while later, the door stuck, then flung open, knocking Blaise onto Goyle. Though everyone else was distracted, I watched closely and saw Potter's shoe disappear into the luggage rack. When the train arrived at Hogwarts, I sent a waiting Pansy ahead of me.

" _Petrificus Totalus!"_ I called, and Potter himself fell clumsily onto the ground, his precious cloak tucked under him, his frozen eyes an array of terror

Attempting a sneer, I said, "Figured it was you, Potter. Now, I really do not want to have to do this, but trust me when I say that it's for your safety." I bent down by his ear, then whispered, "I'm doing this so that I don't have to hurt you worse." I stood up, raised my foot, and then stamped hard on his nose. I heard a sickening crack, and I turned and puked in the corner of the compartment before placing his invisibility cloak safely over him, like a blanket of security, that would probably end up becoming a blanket of death. I stepped over him, walking out of the compartment with silent tears streaming down my face. I paused in the doorway, looking back at him, wishing I could lift him and carry him to safety. Instead, I composed myself before stepping off the train and joining my friends. Ignoring Goyle when he tried to question me, we made our way inside.

 **Sorry, I know that kind of sucked, but I have six pages and that was the most logical place I had to stop it where it wasn't really awkward. I would love your feedback and criticism, even if it's bad, so please leave a comment!**


	2. The Balcony

**I fully realize that the previous chapter was shit, but hopefully this one is somewhat better. This chapter is where the trigger warning related to suicide comes in. If you could leave a comment with your thoughts, I would really appreciate it!**

Once inside, we watched the Sorting Ceremony. This year was the highest for new Slytherins. Of course, they probably all asked to be in Slytherin, given that we were the most likely to be spared by _him_. After Sorting, we were halfway through the meal when Snape walked in, Potter trailing after him. I was the first to notice, even before Potter's own friends. Of course, none of them were in love with him. Well, Ginny was, but that's beside the point. I gazed at him in horror as he made his way across the Great Hall, seemingly unaware that his being here hurt him more than anyone else.

After the feast, I went up to my dormitory, immediately falling into a restless sleep filled with nightmares. Nightmares of my father burning Harry, or of making me burn him, laughing as I did so. Once, I woke up with tears soaking my pillow after a dream in which my father was telling me how proud of me he was, and when he pointed behind me, I turned around and Harry was bleeding from his chest and next to him lay his wand, having dropped from his hand when he fell. His chest was bare and there were deep cuts all along its surface. The inside of his stomach was visible, and his heart lay half out of his chest, and the white of every one of his ribs was visible. His eyes were glazed over and looked into the distance, past my shoulder. His lips were curled up in a smile, and I looked above him and saw Ginny sobbing. After I had woken up, I didn't bother going back to sleep, because exhaustion was better than these dreams. It didn't take a genius to figure out that the reason Ginny was in my dream was because it wouldn't only hurt me to see him dead. I wasn't the only one who cared about Harry. And because he cared for her. Not me. Never me. Me, a Malfoy, who had been given the task of torturing him beyond repair. Torture him into insanity, like the Longbottoms had been. Then _he_ would be able to kill him without a problem. I would rather die first. If it weren't for the threatening of my own family, I wouldn't do it. I would rather die than see him dead. After five years of school with Harry, I was in way over my head.

What had started out as an innocent crush had manifested into an obsession, with me constantly watching him during Quidditch matches, whether we were playing Gryffindor or not. I figured it was still just an intense crush. Then, fourth year, when he and Cedric had disappeared into thin air, everyone began talking in hushed whispers as all the professors panicked, I sat in tense silence, even as my friends grew more excited by the prospect of Harry Potter's demise every second. Twenty minutes passed. Then thirty, forty, fifty. After over an hour of my stomach heaving and me holding back tears of terror, Harry returned, holding the dead body of Cedric. All the students rushed down to find out what had happened, but I stayed in the stands, crumpled over, sobbing loudly into my hands. It was then that I realized that I would fall apart without Harry Potter. I was fifteen then at the end of fourth year.

The next year proved how much I needed Harry. With my father growing increasingly aggressive and violent, not only toward Mudbloods and half-bloods, but toward me too. I did my best not to upset him, but he kept getting angrier over the summer as time went on. I returned for fifth year, covered in bruises that I made sure no one could see. My father's abusiveness, paired with the fact that his allegiance to _him_ made it so that I couldn't try and make friends with Potter as I had planned at the end of the previous year, led me into a deep depression. I had been going to the top of the west tower, which has a large balcony at the top, high enough to jump from, with a low enough railing to get over. I was up from the stairs, and was standing on the balcony looking down, my hands braced on the cold black metal. I knew that until it snowed again or the snow melted, my red blood would stain the snow and remind anyone who looked off this balcony of The Boy Who Had No Hope, The Boy Who Couldn't Live, The Boy Who Died, but I didn't care. I would finally be free.

"Malfoy," came a soft voice from behind me. I turned my head toward him, already knowing it was him, and that I would gladly jump in front of him if it meant he would be the last thing I ever saw.

"What?" I sighed wearily, closing my eyes.

"I know what you're thinking." I opened my eyes and looked at him.

"You can read minds now?" I snarkily sneered.

"Malfoy. Don't. Please. What am I supposed to do here without you here to ruin everything for me? What entertainment will I have on the train at the end of the year? Or the start of next year? What will I do without the boy with the badges? _Potter stinks_ and _Weasley is our king_." He walked closer, lifted the side of my shirt, running his right hand along my side, where there were fresh bruises and gashes from Christmas. I closed my eyes and looked away in shame. I was supposed to be the strong one. The one who never cared about anything that happened because he had it all his way anyway.

"Draco." Hearing my first name from him startled me so much I opened my eyes and looked him in the eye. He was still running his hand up and down my side, occasionally running it across my back and my stomach, where my stomach was peppered with bruises and my back was striped with deep cuts, probably infected by now. "Draco, listen to me. I know we aren't friends, and probably never will be, but I would take you far, far away from _him_ as possible right now if I could. You may not be the best person, but you don't deserve this. You don't deserve to feel hopeless because of your pathetic asshole excuse of a father. I may not like you, but I don't hate you. And I know this sounds weak and pathetic, but I like having you around. I like going to school with you. You've done some bad things in the past, but you've been fine so far this year. I know this makes me sound not at all like the boy who has bested Voldemort four times," he laughed self-consciously, as though he was embarrassed by that fact, "but Draco, I don't know what I would do without you here. Without _you_. Okay? So please walk with me down to the Great Hall. Stay away from any balconies. Because even if you don't think anyone else cares, even if there really is no one else that cares, I care. And I really hope that the person you hate more than anyone else can be enough for you. Because if I'm not." He sniffled quietly. "If I'm not, I don't know what I'd do. If I'd be able to anything anymore at all."

I looked at him and was shocked to see tears gleaming in his eyes and fear etched across every feature of his face. "You mean it?" I whispered, not bothering to hide the tremor in my voice. He had basically just said that there was no chance of us ever being together, but he also had said in the same breath that he would always care about my well-being.

Harry nodded, then moved toward me and wrapped his arms tightly around me. It hurt like hell, but it was worth it to just feel his strong arms around my torso, holding me steady, even though we were both shaking, from both cold and fear. He took my hand and led me gently and slowly down the stairs. Once we had gotten to the doors of the Great Hall, he turned to me and tilted my chin up toward him. My breath caught is my throat. He leaned toward me and whispered, "Promise to never scare me like that again," in the deepest, huskiest whisper I had ever heard from him. I nodded, and he let go of me, leaving my hand cold. He pulled his cloak out of his pocket and smiled, wrapping it around him and opening the door for me. We made our way in, the only reason I knew he was beside me being because he was continuously brushing up against me. He left me at my table, then went to his. I watched as he suddenly appeared in his seat, and laughed alongside the other Slytherins when Ron fell out of his seat in surprise. I still felt empty on the inside, but Harry fucking Potter had held my hand for fifteen minutes on the way to dinner, so that was something. And he cared about me. Or at least didn't want to watch me fling myself off his house's balcony.

 **I'm thinking of putting up a list of songs I listen to while writing if you would like. Let me know!**


	3. Potions

**I'm realizing that this kind of sucks but I'm going to keep going anyways, because it's fun and keeps me from eating all the food in the house.**

 **If you could leave a comment, I would really appreciate it! Literally all I want is your feedback.**

That had been when I realized I was endlessly, hopelessly in love with Harry James Potter. And he had just walked into the Great Hall without even glancing in my direction. He sat down between Ron and Hermione, who had of course saved him a seat. A few moments later, they both turned and glared at me. I immediately turned away and looked down at my plate so that they wouldn't see the tears in my eyes. I felt awful for what I did to Harry, almost desperate enough to go back up to the balcony out of guilt. I was sure he wouldn't try to stop me this time. Instead I just focused on my breakfast, as I couldn't go and off myself on my first day of school. Afterwards, I headed off to Potions, only to see Potter himself when I walked in. He barely glanced at me before looking away down at his books.

"Well, what have we here?" chortled Slughorn. "Didn't you break his nose and leave him for dead yesterday on the train? What a shame I'm pairing you two up for the first assignment." Slughorn stood up straight and made his way over to his desk. "Alright everyone, our first assignment is working on a brand new potion! It's called _amortentia_. You'll be working in pairs. _However_ ," he added as Harry and Ron looked at each excitedly. "I have preselected who you will each be working with. And these pairs will last the full year."

My heart skipped a beat. Potter wasn't going to be happy about this. I glanced nervously at him, swallowing, feeling it catch in my throat when he turned toward me, glaring daggers when he met my eye. I could only hope that he wouldn't hex me as soon as he found out we were partners. He would have every right to of course, but still. It would be nice to work with him for even a day.

"Pairs will be Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger, Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter…" Slughorn's voice trailed away as the blood roared in my ears as I met Potter's venom-filled gaze.

"Professor Slughorn?" interrupted Harry. "You must have made a mistake. _Malfoy_ left me for dead on the train yesterday. I can't possibly work with him."

"Sorry Harry, but this class is going to bring you all a lot closer together." I held back a snort as Ron and Hermione looked at each other in confusion and shifted awkwardly.

I started and quickly looked down as Harry dropped his books on the table next to me. I tried to keep the apology from leaping from my mouth as he said, "As long as you don't try to kill me again, we won't have a problem."

"Potter, I'm sorry about that, okay?" I said, at which Potter only snorted. He got up and grabbed a small cauldron of amortentia. As he brought it closer, the smell of wind and wood flooded my nostrils, paired with a smell of what seemed like… well the only thing I could think of was that it smelled violently green.

"So, we have to tell each other what it smells like to us. To me, it smells like apple tarts and the sharp air cutting across my face when I'm on a broom. And it kind of smells like it does when I settle down by the common room fire on a chair under a warm blanket reading a book." Harry blushed and looked down. "Don't try to use what I love as some sort of leverage against me. I don't even really like apple tarts that much. I prefer treacle tarts."

"Right, because there's plenty I could do with the knowledge that you love Quidditch. Like I didn't already know that. And I can't get in your common room, how could I hurt you in there?" Harry opened his mouth to deliver a retort, but before he could, I barged on. "Mine smells like Quidditch too," I said quietly. "And…" There was no way I was about to tell him that I smelled something that reminded me of the same shade of green as his eyes. "And of treacle tarts. Which I love. More than apple tarts." Which was, of course, a lie, but he smelled my favourite snack, so I would smell his too.

"Look, Potter, I can explain yesterday. If you would just let me. If you would just meet me at the balcony, I'll explain everything. Please."

"You left me for dead. There's no amount of bullshit that can explain that away. Besides, there's a lot of balconies at Hogwarts. You'd have to be more specific. Now, we have to take note of the ingredients of amortentia."

The self-control it took for me to not tell him I loved him then and there just proved that I was a lot stronger than anyone thought. It only became harder as he leaned over his parchment and began writing, his dark, messy hair falling in front of his dazzling eyes, fell in curls around his face. "It" refers to multiple things of course, because keeping my mouth closed wasn't the only thing that was getting harder by the second. I looked at the curve of his spine, the way his robes pressed into his back, the way you could tell that these robes would need replaced soon, because his were tight around his torso right now.

I tore my attention away from the beautiful boy in front of me and began writing the ingredients down. I quickly grew distracted when I recall my dream from the night before. The image of Harry bleeding in front of me reminded me of what I had to do. I knew killing Dumbledore would be difficult, but torturing Harry would be impossible. He was the boy I had fallen in love with halfway through fifth year. After he had saved me, I had defended myself against my father's rebukes. Admittedly, that was what had resulted in me finishing last year with a dozen more permanent scars than I been ready to end life with. I also defended Harry on occasion when my father spoke poorly of him. That was the reason I had returned to school with burns all across my back.

Thinking of them brought a fresh wave of pain as I shifted, and I hissed quietly. Not quietly enough however, as Harry looked at me, at the expression of agony written across my face, and immediately reached his hand over toward my, before pausing. When I made no move to stop him, he ran his hand stealthily into my shirt, running dancing fingers along my side, moving to my stomach, then around to back. As soon as he touched the burns, every muscle in my body tensed. His cool hands relieved the heat I constantly felt a little, but at the same time, it hurt so fucking bad. I looked up to see pity written all over his face. I tried to work up the venom for an insult, but couldn't find the strength to.

"I'll meet you at our balcony at midnight," he whispered. The coolness of his hand disappeared and the next moment I felt him pressing something into my hand. Looking down, I widened my eyes in surprise.

"Potter, this is your invisibility cloak. You'll need it to sneak out." Harry smirked at me, a gleam in his eyes. It was the hottest thing I had seen yet that week.

"Don't worry about it. I have something else to get me there." I tilted my head in confusion, but he just turned back to his work. I didn't particularly think much more of it, all I knew was that I couldn't wait until midnight.

 **Please let me know what you thought, and let me know if you want a look at my writing music playlist!**


	4. Midnight

I stayed in the Slytherin common room until 11:30, then said I was headed to my room, then stood in the hallway under the cloak, which smelled of him. After a few more minutes, Blaise opened the door, and as he walked forward, I slipped back out the door. Glancing around, I knocked Pansy's bright red drink, whatever it was, onto her white jeans. As she started yelling and everyone moved to help her, I snuck out the door and went up to the balcony. It was 11:53. I had the sudden, paranoid thought that Harry wasn't planning to meet me at all, that he was going to just leave me waiting, or that he had tipped Filch off that I would be here. Finally, at 12:04, he showed up, holding a piece of tattered parchment. He tapped with his wand, whispering something, then walked right to me, lifted an edge of the cloak, and slipped under.

"How did you know where I was standing?" I whispered.

"If I told you that, you'd try to be able to use it. Want to go sit down?" he breathed, his voice right by my ear. A painful shiver ran down my spine, and then he had his arm wrapped low around my waist, low enough that he wasn't touching any of my burns, low enough that he almost had his hand cupping my ass. He led me toward a bench I had never noticed before. He settled me in a way that my back wasn't touching anything, but I was still comfortable. He sat next to me, so close our legs were pressed against each other.

"Why did he hurt you again? I thought he was in Azkaban." After a pause, he added, "I thought you were safe now. I hoped you were safe now."

"Did you really think that he would be there more than two weeks?" I whispered, my voice trembling with effort of not crying. "And… it was because… it was your birthday. I wanted to do something for you. So I spoke against _him_. So he burnt me for two hours. I didn't cry." My voice grew even quieter. "I wasn't weak. For you."

Harry leaned against me. His hands were trembling as he rubbed them up and down my thighs. I placed my hands over his, holding them still. Suddenly, I felt a drop of water land on the top of my hand. I looked up at Harry and saw that tears were dripping off his cheeks.

"It's not fair that this keeps happening. You deserve so much better. If I could, I would add your father to the Dursleys' treatment of me. I'd probably die within a week, but I'd rather that than see my… friend… suffer."

"What do the Dursleys' do to you?" I asked, trying to ignore the fact that he had called me his friend, especially when his hands were so far up on my thighs. It was already in a dangerous enough position without becoming any more obvious.

"It doesn't matter. I've survived for fifteen years, I can live for one more summer." I grasped his hands tighter and held them against my chest. I reached over and ran one hand along his ribs, finally realizing after five years that he wasn't just skinny, he was badly malnourished and dangerously thin. There was nothing I wanted more than to hold him until the early hours of the morning. I let go of his hands and wrapped my arms around his bony body. I leaned my head on his shoulder, ignoring the discomfort. I wanted to press my lips against his, wanted it so badly that I was sure it would kill me if I didn't. (In all honesty, if it led to him fucking me, that wouldn't be too bad either, even if he ended up leaving scratches all along my back to add to my burns.)

"We're friends now, are we? Even after what I did?" I knew I was safe to think about him calling me his friend, because his hands were far from where all my blood was quickly rushing. Hint: it was not my face. I felt a thrill of terror when I brought up what I had done to him the previous day.

"I know now that you were acting under orders from _him_." He paused, then added, "And we're only friends at night, here on this balcony. For your safety, no one can know that I care about you. It doesn't matter if someone knows you care about me," he said, laughing dryly. "Given that I'm going to end up dead either way. But if I lost you, or Ron or Hermione or Ginny or Luna or Neville, I would fall apart. Especially if I lost you."

My heart seemed to stop as I absorbed what he had just said. He couldn't bear to lose me over anyone else! Was there a possibility that after last year, he had begun to look out for me? If so, it was most likely that he saw me more as a brother he had to protect. He was, after all, practically a part of the Weasley family. They didn't fall in love, they just got more siblings. Admittedly, Bill was dating Fleur now, (what? I keep up with the gossip.) but that didn't mean that Harry would ever love me.

"Draco…?" whispered Harry. "I'm sorry. I know I probably shouldn't have said that. Especially given how much you hate me."

"I don't hate you, Harry." Quickly recovering myself, I added, "At least not as much as you seem to think I do."

Harry awkwardly stood up, and whispered, "We should probably get back, I have Quidditch tryouts to hold tomorrow." He slipped out from under the cloak and started away. I watched him go with an aching heart. Despite the fact that I had been touching him for the past hour, he seemed a million miles away. Swallowing the urge to call out after him, I turned away and snuck away into the shadows, as I always did. Always a coward. Always weak.

 **Well, that was a rather fun chapter to write! When I wrote this, I had been a little in love with someone who didn't return the feelings, so if it seems a little less sincere after a few chapters it's because I am no longer in love with them and don't have the feelings right there to call upon. Please, please, please, review! I love receiving criticism on my stories, as long as it is not unnecessary hate. Also, with the trigger warnings at the start, in a few more chapters, it's going to get kind of depressing again, so please be ready for that.**


	5. The Great Hall

The next day, I went to breakfast with my feet trailing. I purposefully stumbled past the Gryffindor table and slipped my hand around Harry's stomach, dropping the cloak in his lap. I kept walking, ignoring Hermione's "What did that prat want now? Doesn't he realize that the Ravenclaw table is literally _in between_ our tables?"

I dropped my pathetic ass on the seat next to Pansy, knowing full well that if I ever needed a way to hide my emotions toward Potter, Pansy had wanted to date me for the past four years. Of course, that was the coward's way out, and a Malfoy was _never_ a coward. At least, that's what my father said. Besides that, it would simply be plain cruel to use my friend like that. I returned her cheery "Hello!" with a tired grunt. A slight issue in that my pyjama bottoms had suddenly become the slightest bit too small last night had kept me awake for another hour until I finally took care of the problem. Even after that, I didn't get any sleep because I couldn't stop thinking about the way Potter's hands felt against mine. His, rough and calloused, mine, smooth and soft. It was yet another reminder of how vastly different our lives were. A small reminder, but a reminder nonetheless that kept me up all night thinking about all the other differences in our lives. For example, his future entailed Harry killing _him_ and saving all of wizardkind, whereas mine was supposed to require me torturing him into insanity to make him easier to kill. So that he couldn't fight back.

I was dragged out of my thoughts by a large waffle floating through the air and landing on my plate with a _plop_. I looked up as two sausages came whizzing down the table, also landing on my plate. All the other Slytherins looked insanely confused, but I just smirked and took a few bites of each sausage and the waffle, then turned my head to the right in the hopes that the person who had sent the food to me was watching my throat as I downed my strawberry milk. As I felt my own Adam's apple bob up and down as I swallowed my milk, I wondered if the term "bobbing for apples" really came from a children's party game, because given all the time I had subtly stared at Potter's throat, I had decided that there no way that those were the bobbing apples the name referred to.

In fact, as the thought ran through my mind, I turned to watch Harry wolf down his meal as he always did the first two months of school. I had always thought it sloppy, but I now realized that he did what he had to do to survive. If he didn't eat like that, he would probably starve to death. However, this time, as I went to watch the way he licked his lips after bite, I locked eyes with him from two tables away, and saw nothing but his eyes as they glared furiously at me. " _More_ ," he mouthed, clearly disappointed in my small meal.

 _Oh, but Potter, if it weren't for my small meals, I wouldn't be half as good at Quidditch as I am._ Besides, my father said that his great health came from tiny meals. Which was odd for him to say, as I'd never seen him eat a small meal in my life. But whenever I tried to eat my fill, he would rebuke me, saying that I must want to end my athletic career and any prospect of being someone successful, because no one would hire someone who didn't even take responsibility of my own health. Thus, my stomach couldn't ever hold more than an eighth of fifth year Avery's average dinner, which typically consisted of some (honestly hella rad) mashed potatoes, corn, some more potatoes, a couple slices of ham, more mashed potatoes, and then, if she had room, for dessert, mashed potatoes with a shit ton of butter. She really loved mashed potatoes. She was, ironically, Irish. She had bright red hair. No hand me downs, so she clearly wasn't a Weasley. She was a Todd though, the ancient Scottish Gaelic word for fox. Todds were traditionally hunters, but Avery loved animals with all her heart.

Avery was honestly fully adorable, and if it weren't for my infatuation with Harry, I would probably like her. She was Muggle-born, but was in Slytherin because she had begged the Sorting hat to put her there, because her four snakes would be so happy that she got into the snake house. After arguing with her for three minutes, the hat finally gave up and placed her in Slytherin. She clearly belonged in any house but Slytherin. She was the most patient person I had ever met, and loyal in the "hurt my friend and I will fuck your shit up" way. She was constantly doing crazy stupid things, like when the first years were learning the basics of riding their broom in a straight line, and she did it flawlessly. Upside down. The first time. And when she succeeded, she immediately started doing a bunch of daredevil maneuvers. That was literally the first time she had ever been on a broom. She also had by far the best grades of anyone in her year. The only way she was cunning is when she saw Crabbe making fun of her Gryffindor friend Rhiannon Morgana, and slipped him a Polyjuice potion the next day that turned him into Loony Lovegood in front of everyone at breakfast. That made everyone but the Golden and Silver Trios a laugh. As soon as I saw the stony expression on Harry's face, I stopped laughing. He looked fully ready to kill Avery for using his friend as a punishment.

Avery was still a good friend, although I did give her some tips for better revenge, which were actually things less likely to make Harry angry. Everything I did was because of him. Which reminded me of the plate in front of me. I tried to take a few more bites, but felt as though I would puke. The house elves were coming around gathering any stray plates that hadn't yet made it to the kitchen.

"Mr. Malfoy, sir? Have you finished your meal yet? Dobby is sorry if he is rushing you, please take your time, sir." I looked down and smiled as I saw my old friend before me.

"No, Dobby, I'm finished. You can take my plate." As I moved to leave for Potions, Dobby called me back.

"Have you gotten Harry Potter to fall for you yet, sir? Dobby apologizes if it is none of his business, but Dobby has not seen either of his friends in so very long." The house elf's ears drooped, and I felt a stab of guilt. I had missed him too, and while I had heard that he had been employed here, it had never occurred to me to go visit him.

"I promise I'll come visit you soon, Dobby." Dobby's mouth stretched wide in a grin, and without another word, he gripped my plate and Apparated to the kitchens. It was unfair that house elf magic could Apparate them, but wizard magic couldn't.

Entering the Potions classroom, still not tardy as Slughorn still hadn't arrived. Harry was already sitting at the desk next to mine, and my heart jumped as he slid his hand up my back as soon as I sat down.

"Any better today?" he asked. I shook my head and whispered back, "It happened in late July. I think this is the best it's going to get."

Slughorn entered then just as Harry was preparing to speak again. I huffed in frustration; we had been having a civil conversation, which was rare for us. We continued studying our Amortentia that class, then as I was about to leave, Harry slipped me the invisibility cloak and murmured into my ear, "Keep it a few nights. In case you need it for something." Then as he walked away, he paused in the doorway, looked over his shoulder and bloody _winked_ at me. He winked, smirked, and went out the door with a dramatic flourish.

I didn't see him again until lunch, where he and Hermione were crowded over the paper Harry had had the night before. They pointed at one corner, muttering quietly to each other. Wondering what they were looking at, I wondered if I could somehow slip on the cloak and go over there to look without being noticed. But then Harry tapped the parchment with his wand while reciting some incantation, and even from two tables away, I could see that the ink was fading away. I made a mental note to try asking Harry about it again later.

I was suddenly brought back to reality when I felt… was that? Yes, a sandwich was repeatedly hitting me on the head. I reached back and grabbed it, then, looking Potter dead in the eye, ate exactly half of it before I couldn't take another bite. Harry narrowed his eyes at me, then as he turned away, all the sandwiches in the Great Hall came flying at me. Harry was very powerful with Wingardium Leviosa. Could do it nonverbally, without his wand, was very accurate on his target, could lift multiple things at once, and could do it all without even looking at the objects. In all honesty, it kind of turned me on. In my defense, it was better than anyone else in our year could do. It may have been a basic charm, but most wizards just learn it and use it on occasion for incredibly basic tasks. Harry had fully mastered the charm, possibly better than Flitwick himself. Who, I noticed as I glanced at the professors table, looked positively confounded by the hundreds of sandwiches floating midair directly above my head.

Harry must have charmed the sandwiches in some special way, because they followed me around until dinner, when they disappeared with a _pop_ as soon as he walked in. He walked over to where I was leaning against the wall, and leaned toward my ear. Shit. Not only had I been spending all day thinking of other creative things Harry might be able to use his levitation skills on, now he was standing about two inches from me, his warm breath making my hair flutter. If he came any closer, he would most definitely find out how I felt about him if his leg were to brush against my… thigh, that's a safe thing to go with. I'm sure no one is confused about what I mean by thigh.

"Maybe if you would eat more, I wouldn't have had to do that," he growled huskily. His voice had dropped an octave, and I let my fell weight rest on the wall, before my legs gave way beneath me. "Remember that no matter what anyone thinks about you," and here his voice got even lower, "I care about you Draco." With that he backed away, his green eyes shining with some emotion I couldn't place. He glance down at my lips for a millisecond, then licked his lips as he turned away. My knees buckled, and I quickly made my way to a seat before I collapsed completely. Pansy gave me an odd look as I panted as though I had just ran from the top of the school. In reality, I was panting due to the fact that Potter had practically caused me to have a terrible mishap in front of the entire school. In fact, my pants were entirely too tight. Like, about to tear too tight. I slowly caught my breath, then looked up at Potter, who simply smirked at me, a lopsided, knowing smirk. _Shit_. He knew, didn't he? He must have brushed up against me and I had been so hard I didn't even feel it. Or so distracted by his breath tickling my face or his gravelly voice, which was a turn-on in itself. Then Harry grabbed a hot dog from in front of him, and, without breaking eye contact, slid in smoothly into his mouth and slowly bit a part off. He licked his lips seductively and licked the length of the hot dog before taking another bite.

 _Haha, fuck you too Potter._ He was just making fun of me, of the silly crush he knew I had on him. I flipped him off with zero subtlety and saw Snape smirking out of the corner of my eye.

"Pansy, I am _not_ going to be the cause of Harry Potter's death! Because we both know that if he knew, he would kill him because he would assume that Potter's mocking him. But when are you going to ask him out? Because it's so obvious that he likes you back!"

I briefly wondered who Avery was talking about, because I knew it couldn't be me, given the whole "Obviously madly in love with Harry Potter" thing. I was sure that everyone knew. Probably even long before me.

I ignored my meal, having already eaten almost twice as much as I typically do in a day. Even though food kept flying onto my plate and occasionally attacking me, I just ignored it as all the Slytherins wondered who kept doing that. Eventually, I pick up a small marshmallow from one of the dessert items Potter had placed in front of me and placed it between my teeth, then sucked it into my mouth. I laughed in glee as Potter dropped his spoon into his bowl of soup and his mouth dropped open.

After dinner, I relaxed in the common room with Blaise and Pansy. Pansy kept badgering me like a Hufflepuff (heh, look at me with my Hogwarts humor. Wonder if Potter would have been impressed with that top notch pun.) with questions about my plans for our next trip to Hogsmeade. I kept _slithering_ my way out of answering with a witty joke to Blaise. Avery eventually came over and dragged Pansy away to look at some theory of hers about Quidditch strategies. Avery was our wonderful Keeper. I was still Seeker, but I was keeping an eye out for someone to replace me after I graduated. I was incredibly unprepared to graduate. I had no idea what I was going to do after I graduated. I was supposed to have had my career options picked out last year, but I had been a little preoccupied being suicidal on balconies and then obsessively watching Potter whenever I got the chance.

When I woke up the next morning, I was already too late to go to breakfast. Not that it bothered me much, but still. I quickly got ready then rushed down to Potions.

"Mate, why didn't you wake me?" I hissed at Blaise as he ambled past.

"I tried!" he retorted. "You just kept muttering about how you couldn't do it, that you wouldn't." I froze. I had been talking in my sleep? I had been having a dream about having to kill Dumbledore. How much had I let on the past few days?

As Potter breezed in, his glasses askew and hair as unkempt as ever, he sat next to me and immediately said, "Hermione reminded me this morning that you never explained why you tried to kill me. You should try to explain that soon or I might change my mind about helping you." And with that, he turned to his work, not looking up for the rest of class.

When the bell rang, he was the first out the door. I waited until Blaise was ready to leave, then walked with him to our next class. I skipped lunch when the time came, opting instead to visit the common room to try to think of ways to get to Dumbledore. I didn't want to do this, but I had to, or _he_ would kill my family. He would do it if I refused to torture Harry too. So I needed to do that, and soon. Before I got in too deep. I didn't necessarily care if _he_ killed my aunt Bellatrix, but my mother cared deeply about me, and I needed my father to teach me life lessons. To me, it seemed more like him hitting me whenever he got angry, but I never complained. If he thought I needed to learn it, then it must be something important that I would need in life. Aunt Bellatrix was expendable after she killed Harry's dogfather, I mean godfather, and offered me up to torture Harry and kill Dumbledore.

I recalled how I tried to help Harry last year. Giving him the hint that my father had seen Sirius, and hinting that Hagrid was with the giants. The second one he didn't get, the dense fucker, but he tried to get Sirius to be more careful. I knew he blamed himself for Sirius' death, but if we were being more realistic, it was more mine than his. I had overheard my father talking about this, and I should have warned Harry somehow. I will never stop regretting it. I should have told Harry I had known, but I was so scared that he would kill me, or worse, he hate me for all eternity. I could tell him soon. I _should_ tell him soon.

I couldn't torture Harry. That much was obvious. But I had to at least try. Which meant I needed to start distancing myself from Harry. From now on, no words were to be exchanged in Potions, I would return the cloak, and not tell him anything about me ever again. I had to make him hate me before I could do this. I had to make him think I hated him.

I never was a good actor. How could I pretend to hate Potter when all I wanted to do whenever I saw him was put one hand on his chest and push him up against a wall and grab the front of his shirt and kiss him? I had thought about kissing Potter in many different ways. Hard and deep, long and slow, a quick grazing of the lips, nothing but tongue, and one of those kisses that I had read about in books. The ones where it's raining and they're fighting and then one of them screams that they love the other and they pause and then start making out in the rain before Apparating to one of their houses and, uh, not getting any sleep, to say the least.

I often wondered if Potter would have loved me if I had been in Gryffindor. I had wanted to be for a long time until I had it drilled into my head that Slytherin was the only house worth being in. But if I had been a Gryffindor, I would have made sure to become friends with Potter. And I would have played pranks with Fred and George. If I had been able to help them last year in their war against Umbridge, I would have. I would have been on the Gryffindor Quidditch team, working alongside Harry. I could have been brave enough to ask him to the Yule Ball in fourth year. I would have gone straight to him when I solved the basilisk mystery instead of leaving it where Hermione would find it, with the word pipes scrawled across it in her handwriting. I would have helped Potter defeat Quirrell. I could have helped him save Sirius and Buckbeak, however he did it. And last year, I wouldn't have hesitated to tell him what I had overheard, and if he hadn't listened, I would have gone with him and I would have been the one to fight Bellatrix and die for Harry's sake instead of Sirius. I would have done so many things differently if I had been in a different house. I wouldn't have to be loyal to Slytherin and pine for Harry from afar, I could have helped him and given him all my love and loyalty. Would he have loved me then? Or would he still have dated Cho?

I eventually got up and stopped thinking about "what if's". He didn't love me and I had to stop loving him. And I not given a single thought as to how I was going to kill Dumbledore. I decided to skip the rest of my classes and just hide under Harry's cloak on my bed until tomorrow. I read a book, did some writing of my own, tried to do some more planning, then daydreamt about Harry and, being sure that no one was coming, enchanted a paper to draw an animation lasting a few minute of me and Harry together in my bed, and it changed a little every round. I was quite careful to not need to give Harry's cloak a wash; I always packed a few dozen extra socks for this exact purpose.

Then, it being about 7:30, I settled down into my bed after taking care of all I had done that afternoon. I didn't lay under any blankets, just under the cloak, which surprisingly held all the warmth I could possibly desire, and was careful not to let it show that I was laying there.

I slept a peaceful and dreamless sleep for the first time that week.

 **Please let me know what you think in the reviews! This part was kind of long, which I'm sure none of you mind, but the next few parts are kind of short, I'm afraid. Sorry! If you have any ideas for characters, please submit them, because I figure I should add some more characters of my own. I need a few from each house, but primarily Slytherins. I'll need full names, gender, eye color, hair color, skin color, and house. If you think of anything else that's important to add to that list, just add it in.**


	6. Posed & Poised

I woke up the next morning halfway through breakfast again, so I got ready and strolled to Potions with my old haughty air I had abandoned since I broke down in tears at the maze in fourth year. I sat pristinely in my seat, and as soon as Harry walked in, I handed him his cloak and said, "I have no more use for this, Potter." I immediately turned to my work and worked harder than I had the past three days. I noticed Harry continuously looking at me out the corner of my eye as though he wanted to say something. I kept ignoring him, and when the bell rang, I swept out of the room with an unmatchable haughtiness. I noticed Blaise grinning behind me and noticed him whisper to Pansy, "Our boy is back to normal!"

"Good. Only took him almost two years," muttered Pansy grumpily.

I went through my Thursday with the same haughtiness I had gone through my first four years of school. Snape had given me a proud, yet oddly pained, glance in Defense Against the Dark Arts. At lunch, I didn't give Potter so much as a glance. I suffered through the day, but that night, I collapsed in bed immensely proud of myself.

The next few weeks passed in a blur, each day an exact repeat of the last. I often forgot what day it was and whenever I asked, I got strange glances from everyone around me. Eventually, my slow descent into madness hit a far steeper incline when I began to stop eating all together. I think Potter said something to me every day in Potions that I needed to eat more and I would pretend to ignore him, until after a few days, I learned to tune him out completely.

Unfortunately, I really should have listened to Potter, because, as per usual, he was right. Sometime in October (I think, it might have been November) I was sitting in the Great Hall for dinner and the food appeared on the table and I felt my stomach twist in on itself as I smelled the food. I felt almost as though I could eat the entire table, but I knew I wouldn't be able to keep a single bite of it down. As the meal went on, my stomach throbbed more and more, and I quickly became lightheaded and dizzy. Suddenly, spots of blurriness appeared across my field of vision. I found one thing to put as the center of my attention. Of course, that thing happened to be Potter and I was glaring directly at him. He was looking at me with a confused look on his face. The last thing I saw was him leaning over to whisper to Ron, still looking at me, his expression turning to one of shock as I slid backwards off my seat, my vision going dark.

 **So that ended a little dramatically! I have seven more pages written after this chapter, so I should be able to upload pretty regularly for the next few weeks at least. This is by far the longest work I've ever written, so I would really appreciate it if you would leave your thoughts in the reviews. If I don't have anything to show that people like my work, I probably won't continue it. Thank you for having read this far and I hope you continue reading it!**


	7. Madam Pomfrey's

I woke up in Madam Pomfrey's hospital wing, with no one in sight. I turned my head to the right, only to see Potter standing in the doorway, looking deathly pale and a terrified look on his face. I go to say something, but my tongue refuses to work. Potter crosses half the room to get to my bedside in three steps. He grabbed a cup off the table next to me, then brings the cup to my lips.

"Drink," he muttered, refusing to meet my eyes. I do as he says and almost immediately I feel as though my tongue had been reduced to a third the size it was before.

"What kind of poison did you put in it Potter?" I snapped. I felt a stab of guilt and a hurt look crossed his face, but I reminded myself of what I had to do and toughed it out. Besides, he still wouldn't look at me.

"Sorry for trying to help my friend. Next time I won't worry about you. I won't bother taking you to the hospital wing. I'll just leave you on the floor of the Great Hall for someone else to take care of. I won't make it my problem." And with that, he turned and stalked out, but not before I had seen tears streaming down his face.

 _What is his issue?! Why is he so sensitive? And why does he keep pretending to care about me? Did he make a bet with Ron or something?_ Well, whatever the reason was, now all I could picture was the muscles in Potter's arms as he carried me to the hospital wing. Fuck.

He would undoubtedly start levitating food to my plate again, and the next day, when I was released to go to dinner, I was ready to see my plate already filled when I walked in, but Potter was sitting with his back to the Slytherin table. He didn't turn around once the entire meal, and my house just ignored me, didn't even say a word when I didn't take so much as a pea. I ignored my hunger for both food and the taste of Potter's lips and just caught up on the work I had missed when I was out of commission. I figured that I was only going to end up dead if I kept skipping meals, but at this point, I did not give one single fuck.

 **Please drop a review with suggestions for the story because I only have like seven pages after this and I'm running out of ideas. Also, if you have an OC you'd like added into the story please. I would love to hear your feedback on the latest chapter.**


	8. Polyjuice Potion

The next day was apparently a Saturday, so I just wandered the castle, finding myself in the west tower multiple times looking for a certain tangle of black curls. He must have been trying to avoid me. I thought of using Accio, but decided it was probably illegal to use it on people. Not that I was planning on following the rules much the rest of this year. Besides, we had never learned whether Accio would even work on people. I ultimately decided against it, and spent the rest of the weekend occasionally eating some oatmeal or something else soft and easy to keep down.

Monday in Potions, Potter didn't say a word to me, and I noticed dark circles under his eyes, as though he hadn't slept at all over the weekend. I ignored my concerns, and just focused on whatever Potion we were learning about. All I knew about it was that it looked like mud, but changed colour when a hair was dropped into it. Today we had to drop our hairs in a beaker of the substance and take notes on the colour it turned. When Potter dropped his hair in, it turned to liquid gold, with small swirls of green and black. How suitable. The Golden Boy with his green eyes and black hair.

When it was my turn, Potter said, "The colour it turns reflects your personality. Let's see what kind of person you are. Probably shit brown with hints of piss yellow."

I ignored him and carefully dropped a few strands of hair into the churning brown substance. For a long moment nothing happened, and Potter started to laugh.

"You don't have a personality!" he chortled.

But just then, I saw a red glow appear in the center, pulsating outward. It finally filled the entire cup, blood red, fire orange, and yellow as the sun, all sworling around in chaos. A pale purple, olive green, and a shade of blue I had never before seen in my life trailed in thin lines amongst the maze of heat. The blue was the most beautiful shade of blue I had ever seen. I glanced at Potter, who was gazing open-mouthed in astonishment. He had evidently never seen anything that looked like this either.

I glanced around. Blaise's was a flat forest green. Nothing else. No movement. Avery's, who was a fifth year, but so advanced she was in our class, was a pale, dark burnt orange. It was a dark burnt orange, but you could see the silhouette of Avery behind the colour. Hers had a complicated pattern of movement, far different from Blaise's stillness or me and Potter's chaos. I looked at Ron and Hermione. Hermione was chattering about something during second year, while Ron was staring at her potion. I could see why. It was the exact colour of Ron's hair. If this potion reflected your personality, then Hermione was more besotted with Ron than I had previously thought. Ron's was a swirling black and white, with patches of silver and shades of grey. A tinge of rusty red laid over the entire thing.

Potter was still gaping at my potion of whatever when I looked back at him. He turned to look at me as though he had never seen me before. I decided that once I found out what the fuck this potion was, I would figure out what my colours meant.

Slughorn clapped his hands, and said, "Alright kids, tomorrow, we'll be drinking each other's Polyjuice Potions!"

"Wait! You mean I'll have a dick for an hour tomorrow?" called out Avery.

"Well, you could say that, yes," Slughorn blustered.

"Do we _have_ to be in class when we do this then?" she simpered.

Slughorn looked extremely uncomfortable. I figured I should spare the poor soul, so I turned to Avery. "If you were paying attention, you'll be able to make it yourself," I drawled. I felt a twinge of annoyance as Potter, Weasley, and Granger all looked at each other and shifted in their seats, grinning. They always had some inside joke going between them.

Of course, if this would really turn me into Potter for an hour… the possibilities of this potion were _endless_. It would be befitting of my take some more of Potter's hair to… experiment with the possibilities. It was very unlikely to work out though. Tomorrow would have to be enough.

 **Drop a review! Let me know what you thought, give an idea, or suggest a character! I worked really hard on this chapter, and now I only have six pages left. My posting is slowly catching up with my work and it's worrying me a little bit. So please either leave a review with or PM me an idea to go with the storyline! I love you all for having read this far, thank you so very much!**


	9. Broken Promises & Empty Threats

The next 24 hours seemed to drag on and on. Finally, it was time for Potions. Harry was already with the vials, a gleam in his eyes. As soon as everyone had entered the classroom and Slughorn gave the okay, Harry downed my vial, keeping direct eye contact with me. I drank his slower, but with the same maintained eye contact. Suddenly a sharp pain stabbed my stomach and I gasped. Around me were small cries of pain, and, though tears were streaming from my, or rather Potter's, eyes, I never made a noise. When the pain finally wore off, I looked to see what took me a moment to recognize as myself. He was stick thin, with dull, sunken eyes. His robes were far too big for him, and his hair was almost as unkempt as Potter's. For the first time in years, I felt muscle pressing against the fabric of my robes, with an energy I hadn't felt since at least fourth year.

Potter was looking at me in horror. "Do I really look like that? I'm so small and thin!"

I snorted. "At least you aren't stuck sitting next to the ugliest thing in the world for the next hour. I pity you for all the years you've had to sit there staring at me."

Potter replied instantaneously. "I don't think it's a half bad view. Pretty nice one, if I'm being honest," he said, then immediately blushed. "Sorry, I shouldn't have said that."

I smiled reassuringly with his own face and said, "Don't worry. It's fine. I take it as a compliment."

I looked myself up and down and stopped when I noticed an unmistakable familiar bulge in my crotch. Was this due to my thoughts or Potter's? I really didn't know how this Polyjuice Potion stuff worked. The energy I felt was clearly Potter's, so were they my thoughts having an effect on my body? Or his? Although given that I hadn't really grasped that this was Potter's body I was wearing, and I obviously wasn't having any dirty thoughts about the monstrosity that was myself, that must have meant that Potter was entertaining the idea that he was an attractive person. How self-centered!

"God, I really am atrocious, aren't I?" muttered Potter, coughing awkwardly as he wrapped my arms around myself and crossed my legs. It was obvious that he had noticed the boner too, whosever it was.

"No, Potter, I can fully assure you that you aren't at all atrocious," I said, immediately feeling Potter's face heating up as I realized what I said. Fortunately, before Potter could say anything back, there was a small screech from the next table over, where Ron and Hermione were sitting. Harry and I both looked over, where Ron was staring aghast at Hermione.

"My… my hair! It isn't really _that_ red, is it? Malfoy," he said, turning to Potter. "I fully understand every time you made fun of my hair."

"Wrong Malfoy, Ron," chuckled Harry.

"Oh. Right. My bad." He turned back to Hermione, who was gazing open-mouthed at herself.

"My skin! Why did no one tell me that my acne problems had come back?! And why didn't anyone ever tell me that my hair was that ugly? Ron, you're supposed to be the one to tell me that stuff!" She said, beginning to hit herself in the shoulder before evidently realizing it would give her painful bruises once the hour was up and hitting Ron's body instead.

"I never told you anything was wrong because there wasn't anything wrong! 'Mione, you're perfect the way you are, and if you can't see that, then I don't know what to tell you!" Ron blushed deeply, then awkwardly shifted in his seat.

I glanced over at Blaise and Avery, the latter of whom was cackling gleefully at the other. "Now you finally get to see what it's like to be short!" with Blaise simply pouting in response. I had never noticed how red Avery's lips were against her pale, freckled skin until they were put on the personality of the dark skinned, brown lipped boy. Back before I went to Hogwarts, I had had a major crush on Blaise. His parents were never Death Eaters. He had three siblings, and they were all really cool. He himself disagreed with _his_ ways, and would openly scorn anyone who did agree. He was also undeniably gorgeous. If I wasn't so heart stoppingly in love with Harry Potter, I would undoubtedly have started dating him by now, as he was bi. He and Avery had been flirting nonstop for the past week, which showed that Slughorn had an agenda, and it was working. Ron and Hermione would surely be dating before Christmas, as would Blaise and Avery. If only that could pay to be the case with Harry and I. But if he fell for me, then my family would surely die.

"Draco?" My attention snapped back to my own body, where Harry was looking at me with concern in my silvery eyes. I couldn't bear to look at myself, so I instead glanced at the parchment on the desk in front of me.

"Ready to work on this?" I asked. Harry sighed and picked up his quill. "What changes do you notice about the feelings going through your body?" I read from the paper. "Well, for one, I feel like I'm filled with energy." Harry nodded.

"Yeah. I feel like I could die. I'm tired, and my stomach has never hurt so badly before, and-" He broke off. "Is this always what it's like for you? Are you always in pain like this? Because I don't know how I'll be able to stand this for the hour, let alone every day. Last time I felt this down was right after Sirius died. And only for a couple of months. Do you need to talk? I can meet you at our place if you want."

"I'm fine," I snapped, twisting Harry's face into a sneer. "I'm not so weak that I need to talk willingly to my worst enemy. I'm a _pure-blood_. We don't get help from half-bloods."

My face crumbled into despair briefly, then; "I'll wait for you. All night if I have to. I'll wait. At the least I can try to find a spell to relieve these burns, because they're tormenting me."

My heart was cracking, but I had to remain strong. The more time I spent around him, the harder it would be to hurt him. On the other hand, this would be a perfect time to hurt him. But no. I wasn't prepared. If I went there tonight, I would inevitably end up so far in that I would have to find some way to make it seem as though I had killed him and disposed permanently of his body.

"Don't bother. I won't be there. You need your sleep. It's the first Quidditch game tomorrow. Slytherin at Gryffindor. Are you ready? Because the Slytherins definitely are."

Harry sighed, then shook my head and got back to work. Just then, I felt another sharp pinch in my gut, then looked up and saw my blond hair growing longer and slowly turning darker. I watched as my body turned back into Harry's, the skin darkening to a medium brown. His eyes changing from a shimmering silver to warm, simmering green. I felt the familiar ache all over my body slowly return, and was repulsed by it, now having seen what Harry saw. All I needed was a little more sleep though and I would be fine.

We left Potions and most of us all went our separate ways. I had a free hour, so went back to the dormitory, only to find a package on my bed. There was a note attached, which I plucked from the wrapping and read.

 _DRACO-_

 _This is an enchanted necklace you're to get to Dumbledore by Christmas. When he touches it, it will kill him, so I expect you to get it to him properly. Do not under any circumstances touch it with your bare hands. If you fail, you know what will happen to us. If you fail, you will die before we do, I can promise you that._

 _-LUCIUS_

Well, shit. I had a little over two months to gather the courage to kill someone. Not just someone, my headmaster. And then I knew I would still be expected to torture the boy I had fallen completely in love with. I had to meet him tonight. But no. Not if I wanted to keep my family alive. I stuffed the package into my trunk, beneath a bunch of my clothes, then burst out of my dormitory and made my way to the west tower, which I hadn't been to by myself since last year. I leaned against the rail, my hands latched onto the freezing bar. I hunched over, watching my tears as they fell stories down to the ground below. I could feel my shoulders heaving, my clothes laying loosely over my body as I tried to remain quiet. After a long moment, I let out a loud, horrendous sob and hoped no one was near enough to hear me. Either way, I quickly composed myself, which was for the best, as right then, I heard the door behind me leading inside creak open, and I spun around to face whoever had walked though.

 _Ugh._ Of course. Granger. She had her head tilted, eyebrows raised questioningly. She looked like she was about to question me, so I quickly improvised.

"What? You've never liked the view somewhere? Even monsters like me like going places to see how it looks." I paused, hoping my face didn't reveal that I truly thought of myself as a monster. After all, saying I wasn't the best person was a definite understatement. I was terrible. I was willing to torture the person I cared for most out of heavily misguided. And with that thought, I tried to push past Granger, but she blocked my way.

"Malfoy-" I cut her off as I pulled my wand out of my robes with a flourish and pointed it directly at her.

"You know Granger, I could kill you and throw you off the balcony right now, and nobody would be the wiser for it. What do you think your pet weasel would do then?"

Hermione looked shocked at my threat, then said, "Well if you're talking about Ron, then he would probably immediately figure out it was you and come after you himself, along with Potter. So go ahead. If it means it would rid the world of you, it'd be worth it."

My hand shook for a moment, then I said " _Stupefy_!" Hermione's face crumpled into shock, then she collapsed backward and I took that moment to make my escape to dinner. I didn't want to be late. I was looking forward to seeing Avery's when she saw that we were having mashed potatoes.

 **I think this is my longest chapter yet guys! I'm very proud of this one and I hope you all liked it! Remember to leave a review with your thoughts, plot ideas, or an OC for me to use. I would appreciate so much.**


	10. Nineteen Reasons

I was laughing with Avery and Blaise when the doors to the Great Hall opened with a band. Weasley stormed in with a face as red as his hair. Harry followed close behind with Granger tucked under his arm.

"MALFOY," he bellowed as he made his way toward me, his face contorted with rage. He grabbed me by the back of my shirt and pulling me backward off the bench at the table and thrusting me up against the wall. "HOW DARE YOU DO SOMETHING LIKE THAT TO HERMIONE YOU BASTARD, YOU'RE LUCKY I DON'T KILL YOU HERE AND NOW."

"I'd be luckier if you did," I said quietly, but Ron was too busy screaming to notice it. I noticed Harry's flash of concern, before the mask of anger fell back over his face.

"YOU'RE A DESPICABLE PIECE OF SHIT. WE'D ALL BE BETTER OFF WITHOUT YOU." Harry opened his mouth, then closed it again. "YOU'VE BULLIED HARRY SINCE YOU MET HIM. YOU TRIED TO KILL HIM AT THE START OF THIS YEAR. BUT IT'S ALWAYS ENDED OKAY. HARRY COULD HAVE DIED, BUT HE WAS FINE, SO WE LET IT GO WHEN HE ASKED, BUT YOU THREATEN TO KILL HERMIONE? YOU LEAVE HER TO FREEZE? THAT'S THE END OF THE LINE FOR YOU MALFOY. I SWEAR I'M GOING TO KILL YOU, YOU WORTHLESS EXCUSE OF A FUCKING WIZARD. I WISH YOU WOULD FUCKING DIE!" And then he paused, gasping for air, and Hermione was behind him, shaking with cold and fear as she stared at me with wide eyes, and Harry was glaring at me, and Ron had just told me what I had been thinking for the past year, so it wasn't just me that thought it, and if Ron did then surely other people did too, and he was right, and I needed to get out of there, I needed to get out of this world, and I just needed to die.

I felt Ron loosen his grip on me, and only when I noticed that he was blurry did I realize I was crying. I pushed past him, striding out of the Great Hall, waiting until I was in the hallway before I began sprinting off toward the west balcony, faintly hearing the door thud shut behind me. I took the stairs two at a time, feeling my feet hit each step, feeling the blood rushing through my veins, feeling my pulse jump, feeling everything for the last time. I had done some terrible things, but I had truly thought Hermione was going to die, and I didn't even feel anything about it until Weasley had been screaming at me about it. And then I had felt everything at once. That was my problem, I either felt everything or nothing at all. I made for the door at the top of the stairs, only to hit it head on and it not budge at all. I pounded on it with my fists, beating it until my hands were bruised and I was sobbing, tears pouring out my eyes, streaming down my face, my nose running like a river, my sobs loud and echoing down the hallway. I collapsed against the door, sliding down it until I was laying on the floor, my face pressed against the cold of the stone floor.

"Draco." I heard my name, but I ignored it, as I didn't particularly care. I just wanted to die. More than I had ever wanted it. But I didn't have the motivation or the energy now to go to the east tower. I wanted to die but I didn't want to work for it.

"Oh, Draco, please look at me. Draco, please. Draco. Draco, Draco, Draco. I've never really noticed how beautiful your name is until now. Draco Malfoy. I guess that's what happens when you-" He cut himself off abruptly, then continued. "Draco, after last year, I found a way to spell them so that no one would be able to get past if they had bad intentions up here. I don't know if you tried _alohomora_ or not, but if you didn't think to, it wouldn't have worked anyway. I am so, so goddamn sorry about every word Ron said in there. None of it was true, he was just ang-"

"No," I rasped, my voice hoarse from the crying. "Don't tell me he didn't mean it. You and I both know that he meant it. And he was right, so I don't know why you're trying to tell me it wasn't true. I'm a monster. She could have _died_ ," and here my voice cracked and the tears started fresh. "She could have died and if no one had confronted me about it, I would have felt nothing. Unless I was forced to think about my part in it, I would have felt no guilt." At this point, I looked up at Harry. "What have I done? What- what if she had died? And no one knew it was my fault? All my fault, just like everything else. I'm a fucking monster, why do you not just let me die? _Why_ , Harry, _why_?"

"Because, Draco." And here he paused, and I could feel his gaze on me, looking over every inch of my disheveled form. "Because there's a Quidditch match tomorrow. And if you die, they won't have a Seeker for me to play. Because I want you in that Quidditch match and every one after. Because I want to see you laugh at Avery's enthusiasm over mashed potatoes. Because I want to see you eat mashed potatoes yourself. Because I need a Potions partner. Because I need to see your smile. Because I need you to live long enough that the burns on your back will stop hurting. Because I need to watch your bruises fade. Because I want to see the way your hair flops over your face when you're focused on your assignment. Because I want to see the way your beautiful eyes light up whenever you're presented with a fun challenge. Because I want to see the way you strut when you're happy. Because I want to see you every day in school. Because I need someone to banter with. Because you're the one person who never immediately loved me because I was Harry Potter. Because you still don't love me. Because you never cared who I was, it was always about what I did that you cared about. Because of every single little thing about you that makes up who you are. Because you're Draco Malfoy and you deserve the world."

I had stopped crying by the time he got to my hair. I was staring at him in awe at this point. That he cared enough to have noticed that much about me. It was almost as much as I had noticed about him. I stood up awkwardly, my muscles stiff from being in that position for so long. I limped over to him, my right leg still trying to get the blood circulating. I wrapped my arms tight around him before giving him a chance to react. _I love you,_ I thought. Out loud, I whispered, "Thank you," into his ear. This. This was the only reason I was still living. He had enchanted the door itself not to let me through no matter what I tried if I was planning to kill myself. And he had just given nineteen reasons that he didn't want me to die. He had just shown how much he cared. He may never love me, but at least he would definitely care.

 **So I don't know about you guys, but I think this is a somewhat decent chapter. I have like two chapters left until I'm caught up to where I'm writing now, because I'm currently trying to write a really long chapter. Like, a ten page chapter or something. But it would really help if I had some plot ideas. And some ideas for characters. Or even just thoughts on what I've got so far. I just really want to hear your feedback on what I have so far. I've worked harder on this story than any other, and I really want to hear your opinions.**

 **In other news, I have a new story, "In Honor of Stan Lee" that's just how some different characters in the Marvel universe reacted to Stan Lee's death. I hope you'll pop over there, give it a read through, and maybe even leave a review on that too! Thank you!**


	11. -From, Harry

There went Ginny, walking by with Hermione. I was quite certain I liked her. Since at least the end of last year. But, lately… it was weird. I saw her long red hair and would think of what it would look like a white blond. I noticed the way her brown eyes flashed when she angry and remembered those beautiful eyes that held silver fire. I knew she was one of the best chasers the Gryffindor Quidditch team had ever seen, but I saw her flying by after the quaffle and thought of the other Quidditch player in my life. And no. I don't mean Ron. I thought of Malfoy and would feel a slight smile creeping onto my face. I would think of him and would feel my heart softening. But… surely… it couldn't be possible… I couldn't possibly be becoming actual friends with Draco Malfoy. Sure, I was trying to take care of him and I didn't want to see him die, but I couldn't possibly actually want to be his friend. It was impossible. It was _Draco Malfoy_. He was a monster. He stood by and made fun after Sirius died, and he could have done so much more for me over the past five years that he didn't do. It was weird though. He always constantly was tormenting me in a weirdly passionate way after first year, as opposed to his hatred his posed toward me through much of first year. Then after the Tournament, he didn't make fun of me hardly at all. If anything, whenever he looked at me, there was this strange gentleness in his eyes along with an oddly steely look. It was almost as though he was trying to convince himself to say something. Whether he was trying to say something bad to keep up his act or something good to reveal how he really felt. Or maybe it was a little of both. All I could tell was that whatever our dynamic had been before, it was changing lately. I liked the feeling that came with this new tension between us. I had to walk Malfoy back to his common room last night, which my instincts told me to do slowly so that I didn't hurt his back (That was what my instincts were telling me, right? To protect his back. There couldn't have been any other reason.), but I couldn't have taken more than ten minutes. (My instincts also told me to wrap my arms around him so that we took up less space and the invisibility cloak would cover us better. That's obviously why.) I had to protect what I cared about. Which was obviously the map and cloak. I couldn't let them be taken away. They meant the world to me, and I don't know what I'd do without them. Wait. What am I talking about? I can function fine without them. Maybe I subconsciously thinking of something else. Not Malfoy, surely? Ginny. Yes, that must be it, it must be Ginny. I couldn't treating Draco differently like I had been. I was just taking care of him because I felt bad for him. But now I needed to stop treating him differently from how I was treating everyone else. I would start going back to normal tomorrow, during the Quidditch match, and I wouldn't let anything keep me from reestablishing our normal rivalry.

 **Okay so clearly this is from Harry's POV and he obviously has a crush on Draco but he can't tell, because he's a** **major** **minor idiot. I have a theme for the title chapters from Harry's POV, but you probably won't see it until at lest the third Harry chapter, which will probably be like chapter 33. Also, I became obsessed with Dear Evan Hansen on Friday (11/16/2018) so you're going to start seeing a shit ton of Dear Evan Hansen references starting with chapter 14. Keep in mind that whatever you read of Harry being obviously in love with Draco, by chapter 14, he'd just in the past three days decided that they were friends. So he's stuck on them being friends for a long ass time. Also, I'm realizing that I'm not really including any other characters in this, so starting chapter 15, I'm going to try and do that.**

 **In other news, please give me some other characters to put in here, because I really need it for an upcoming chapter.**

 **Be sure to review!**


	12. The Quidditch Match

The next morning, I woke up cold and sore, yet oddly happy. Then everything from the previous day came back to me. Harry had held me in his arms as he took me back down to my dormitory under his invisibility cloak. Which he made extremely slow, so his arms were wrapped around me for a half hour. I got up and threw on my Quidditch robes, then made my way out to the field, where most the school was already gathered in the stands. I was the last one on the team to make my way out there. As soon as I was out there, the teams went up in the air, and once the whistle was blown, Potter flew over to me and looked me dead in my eyes and said quietly, "No mercy, right Malfoy?" before abruptly flying away.

That little bitch. I smirked, then flew after him. I was admiring his ass on the broom when my stomach clenched and heaved. Right, I forgot breakfast. That was fine, I'd be okay. _Damn_ , Potter had an arse. I would pay a thousand Galleons to squeeze that ass. It was one of the best parts of Potter, save for his eyes and hair and smile and personality and… okay, so maybe I just loved everything about him.

I was still trailing faintly after Potter staring at his ass when I felt more than saw a bludger go past my face, not two inches away. I pulled up short, then turned and went the other way. I had a game to win. I scanned the air for the snitch, then, just as I spotted it fifty feet above my head, Potter came flying by, whizzing past me on his way up. I took off after him, and the snitch rose steadily higher. At a hundred and fifty feet above the ground, I felt my stomach clench again. At two hundred, I watched as three feet in front of me, Potter grabbed the snitch and turned, diving toward the ground. The edges of my vision went black, with the darkness closing in until I was barely able to see the sky. I felt my hands slipping from my broom and tried to tighten my grip, but just then my hands went limp all together. I could feel myself slipping backwards off my broom, and then I couldn't feel the broom at all. My vision snapped back and I was flailing in midair, going from two hundred feet to a hundred and fifty to a hundred, and the ground was rushing up to meet me, and I braced for impact and there was a jolt of lightning hot pain that seared my body and then everything went dark.

 **Please review and also please take a look at my profile for all announcements! I also have a poll available for you to fill out regarding my stories and I would really appreciate it if you would take the time to do so. I am still greatly in need of characters for this story and I would love some advice from you guys on where I should take this story! I love all of you and can't wait for you guys to read the next few chapters I have ready!**


	13. Nightmares

When I blearily opened my eyes, I was met with a terrifyingly bright light. It was so white, I momentarily thought I was in the White Room back at home. But, looking around, I realized I had never been here before in my life. As I watched, I saw my parents stagger through the door, and felt my heart jump in terror when a huge snake slithered in behind them. I normally had no fear of snakes, but this was no ordinary snake. This was Nagini, _his_ snake. She crept around my parents, who were thin and looked weak. As I watched, another me was shoved through the doorway, and _he_ followed me in. He cackled, then pointed his wand at me and said, "I told you what would happen if you failed me boy!" And just then, Harry Potter himself stumbled through the entryway. I watched as a swift _avada kedavra_ was administered to each of my parents, then both me's had to look away as Nagini began feasting upon them. Unfortunately, that left me watching Harry as _he_ began torturing him, not a simple _crucio_ , but first with painful spells, then doing it physically himself. I couldn't stand to look away as blood dripped from Harry and he stared desperately at dream me, who stood frozen as I was, staring in horror at the scene unfolding before us.

 _This is a dream. It is a dream, it isn't real, it's a dream, I can make it stop. I just have to wake up,_ I thought to myself.

 _Or maybe you're dead and your punishment for being such a monstrous human is that you get to spend the rest of eternity watching your one love be murdered. It's what you deserve._

Of course, it was at that moment that Potter looked directly at me, the real me, and gasped. Gasped in a way that would be almost sexual if not for the predicament he was in. I could do nothing but watch as blood dripped from the cuts latticing his body. Nothing but watch as his eyes rolled into the back of his skull, the beautiful green of his eyes disappearing as his chest heaved for air. After a long moment, his wheezing stopped abruptly and he slowly fell backward, his wand falling from his hand as he did so. The scene looked familiar, and for a moment I couldn't recall why until I remembered the dream I had had at the start of term. Here, again, I could practically see what Harry had last had to eat. I could again see the way tendons and veins still clung to his ribs. And worst of all, I could see his heart, laying half out of his chest, still faintly pulsing but growing weaker. And just as it stopped, I jolted up boltright in a bed in Madam Pomfrey's cavernous hospital-like room.

My head immediately started pounding and every bone ached, so I laid back down. It was only after I checked that I had no missing limbs that I noticed the screaming coming from the entrance.

"BECAUSE, RON, I WAS PLAYING HIM AND NO MATTER WHAT HE DID TO HERMIONE, I FEEL LIKE THERE'S AN UNSPOKEN QUIDDITCH RULE THAT IF YOUR OPPONENT ALMOST DIES PLAYING YOU, YOU HAVE A FUNDAMENTAL RESPONSIBILITY TO AT LEAST MAKE SURE HE'S ALIVE." I surreptitiously glanced over at the doorway, where Harry was not a foot from Weasley, both of their faces furious.

"All I'm saying, mate, is that there's a difference between checking in on him every once in a while to make sure he isn't dead yet and skipping classes for three days waiting for him to wake up. Especially after what he did to Hermione. She could have died too, you know."

"Then maybe Hermione should come let me know she has a problem with this, unless you're suddenly her messenger boy! I'm staying here until he wakes up, and that's final." With a huff, Harry leaned against the frame of the door.

There was a pause, then Ron said quietly, "And if he doesn't wake up?"

"Then I don't know what I would do, Ron. Much as he would never admit it, he needs a friend. A real friend, not his Death Eater 2.0 buddies. And I intend to be here for him whenever he needs anyone."

I could feel myself losing consciousness again, but I was somewhat okay with that, as at least now I knew that Potter would be there whenever I needed him.


	14. Hugs & Kisses

My eyes cracked open, heavy with exhaustion, although I had been asleep for who knows how long, and my tongue felt heavy and swollen. I heard a small gasp, and then: "Malfoy? …Draco? Are you awake?"

I tried to respond, but my mouth wasn't cooperating, so all that came out was a moan. I felt myself flush with embarrassment, as moans would always sound quite sexual, no matter what situation they were coming from. I felt a glass being pressed to my lips and a heard a soft voice order, "Drink." I certainly wasn't complaining, as the water was so smooth and refreshing. I opened my eyes to look at the person who had blessed me with water, and was met by a set of vibrant green eyes.

"Harry…" I murmured. "What… you're here."

I saw tears well up in his eyes before he whispered, "Of course I am, dumbass. I couldn't let my friend wake up in the hospital alone. Are- are you okay?"

"I will be now." I tried to push my dream away, but was unable to do so. I couldn't get the image of Harry dying in front of me.

"Malfoy, what happened out there?" Potter's tone was suddenly brisk, and I felt compelled to do the same.

"I've no idea what happened, and now that I'm awake, I suppose it doesn't quite matter." I say the words sharply, with a tinge of iciness chilling my voice. I had to remember my job of pushing Harry away.

Harry sighed. "It matters to me. I don't let my friends go as easily as you're trying-"

"That's the thing though, isn't it Potter? We aren't friends. And I'm not your pity case, so _stop treating me like I am!_ _I am MORE than someone you can pretend to care about because you feel bad about me! I have more self-worth than to just LET YOU DO THAT! I MATTER TO PEOPLE, YOU KNOW! I DO – NOT – NEED – YOU! THERE ARE PEOPLE WHO LOVE ME. THERE ARE PEOPLE WHO CARE ABOUT ME. THERE ARE PEOPLE WHO ACTUALLY WANT TO SPEND TIME WITH ME BEYOND FEELING BAD FOR ME BECAUSE OF WHO MY PARENTS ARE AND WHO THEY ASSOCIATE WITH! I AM MORE THAN WHO YOU THINK I AM!"_ I was sobbing at this point, and I was screaming at Potter without believing a word of what I was saying. We were friends, I was his pity case, I wasn't more than someone he could pretend to care about, I didn't have more self-worth than that, I didn't matter to people, there was no one to love me, there was no one to care about me and no one to spend time with me because all people could see were my dad's light hair and silvery and my mom's light complexion. I was so much less than Harry thought I was and I knew it.

"So p-please, just- just stop. Stop being so nice. We both know it's not in my DNA to be nice. My parents are Death Eaters and I've always been destined to follow in my father's footsteps. So don't set yourself up to be burned by me yet again." I looked away from Harry and toward the wall and closed my eyes, tears leaking from them.

"You are _so_ much more than your parents. You are Draco Malfoy. You know, your name means bitter dragon. My name is much more of an acronym. Harry Potter. The occupation of potter belongs to a poor person, but Harry means ruler. Bitter dragon sounds much better than poor ruler. And that's just it, you have so much more… I don't know, betterness in you." I knew if I looked behind me, I would see him smiling gently at me.

"You're the Boy-Who-Lived. You've done so much for the entire wizarding community. I've caused nothing but pain and disaster. And you're everything I've wanted to be." _Everything I've always wanted._ "I have always wanted to do something for somebody that would make a difference in just one person's life. Make one person happy."

"Draco, you make me happy just by being alive." At this I turned back toward him, tears still rolling my cheeks. He was looking at me with a fond look on his face. When he noticed me looking at him, he quickly turned his face to the floor.

"Potter, what the hell do you mean by that?" I watched him intently for his answer.

"I just mean that you mean more to me than you know. That you do make a difference. You make a difference in my life." He looked down, bashful.

"You know Potter, you'd make a terrible carpenter."

"Huh?" His eyebrows drew together in confusion.

"Everyone wants to put me in a box, so I've given them the walls to build it with, and you're the only one trying to get rid of the walls. If you can't even build a box, you could never be a carpenter. It's like you've thrown out the tools you need to build a box and just kept the ones you need to tear down a wall."

"Because you don't need to put up walls. You don't need to be put in a box. You live in a mansion, but now the halls seem shorter, the rooms seem small, the house seems quieter. You need more out of life, but no one is willing to let you out of that house. They've locked you in a box, and you aren't trying to escape. You'll die in that box. You don't need a box for a house. You need the world, with a _home_ in it that you can return to when you need a rest. There is so much for you in this world, but you don't even want to try and see it. Even though that's what will save you." He lifted my chin up to meet his eyes and my breath caught in my throat. "And I hope that maybe at the very least, I can build you a window. Maybe then you'll look outside and realize that everything you want is right outside, and then you can build yourself a door. You're dying the way you are right now. And I can't bear to just idly stand by and let you die."

"I have a window, Harry. I can see all the people that built my house passing by. They all look right at me, but not one of them sees me. There's no point." I tore my gaze from his.

"I see you."

My eyes snapped back up to his. He… he couldn't possibly mean that. There was no way that he could see how I wasn't at all who I pretended to be. He had to believe at least a little of it. He probably believed at least that I was truly a pureblood. Nobody knew that my father was a half-blood. Both his parents were wizards, but they each had a muggle parent. I had never had anyone question my pureblood status.

"You're scared, Draco. Of everything. You belong in Gryffindor, but you're too scared to disappoint your father. You want to be happy, but you're too scared to try."

"No." I whispered, but I was too quiet for him to possibly hear me. He was right. It was simple. I was terrified of what might happen if I did something to improve my life.

"You deserve the world, Draco Malfoy. And I am completely willing to help you work for it. You're absolutely perfect and beautiful, and if I have to stay with you here for forever, I'm willing to." He sighed. "Look, this isn't how I want this conversation to go. If I could, I'd just show you, but I guess I'm scared too." In a quiet tone that I was certain I wasn't supposed to hear, he added, "Too scared that you might hate me for how I feel."

Whatever that was supposed to mean, I was sure it didn't mean what I wanted it to. Which was a shame, because if he loved me too, I would totally have sex with him in the disgusting school hospital wing. I couldn't help but wonder though, when would Harry realize I was in love with him?

All of a sudden, the slight happiness I had been feeling evaporated. The reason I was in the hospital wing sunk in. I was here because I refused to eat. I could if I wanted, but I would rather just let myself die. So I didn't eat in the hopes that it would kill me and then I wouldn't have to kill or torture anybody.

"Draco, listen." God, the things that slight lisp did to me. "You need to take care of yourself. I can't lose you. It just can't happen." I shifted a little under the covers to hide the boner I was getting at the sound of his almost unnoticeable lisp. It was hot as fuck. I had to shift a little more though, as suddenly Harry was leaning over me, enveloping me in a warm, tight hug. "You are genuinely my friend Draco, and I can't believe I'm saying this after everything you've done, but I care about you so much."

Pulling away, he opened his mouth to say more, but just then, Tristan Hughes appeared in the doorway of the hospital, leaning casually against the doorway. A seventh year and one of the Slytherin Quidditch Chasers, he was tall and lean, with muscle that indicated him as a runner. He cleared his throat and Harry spun around, crossing his arms defensively.

"Well, what could Harry Potter possibly be doing in the hospital wing with Draco Malfoy? Not trying to kill our Seeker, are you Potter?" Tristan chuckled, then pushed past the disgruntled Harry. "How you doing Draco?" He clapped me hard on the shoulder, and I winced in pain. I saw Harry's face twist with concern and he made a move to comfort me, but Tristan beat him to it.

"Oh, damn Draco, I'm so sorry. I forgot you're probably still in some pain. Are you alright? I didn't mean to hurt you. I'm so sorry." He bent over me, his face contorted with concern, and he looked so genuine and sincere that I couldn't help but smile.

"Don't worry Tristan. I'm just a little stiff still," I reassured him.

I saw a smirk dance over his pink lips, then he leaned toward my ear and whispered into it, "I could think of a couple other things you and I could do that would leave both of us sore in other places that would make it quite difficult to sit on our brooms."

I froze. Did he _really_ just say that? Didn't he know I was in love with Potter? Clearly not, or he wouldn't have said that. But then, how could he possibly know I was gay?

He laughed, a silvery laugh that echoed through the room. "Well, since you almost died, I figured I might as well have some fun with you." Twisting around, he added, "Potter, do you mind?"

Harry looked at me, then said "I'll just… leave you guys to it then."

"Look, Draco, I'm not saying I like you or anything, because that would be weird. But I will say that I'm gay as hell, and I'll admit I've watched you in the showers after Quidditch matches, and I certainly like what I saw. Okay, maybe I do like you a little, so what do you say of next weekend going to Hogsmeade with me?" Tristan looked at me, not blushing a bit, which should really have warned me right off the bat. The way I behaved around Potter, or Weasley and Granger behaved around each other, or even Blaise and Avery, who weren't exactly the bashful type, was as a whole ass disaster and Tristan was as casual as if he was asking how I did on the last transfiguration quiz. But dumbass me didn't clue in, and decided that this would be the perfect way to get rid of this silly crush on Potter.

"Hogsmeade would be great," I said, smiling.

Tristan smiled back at me, then he climbed onto my bed, which creaked under his weight. He swung one leg across my body and settled lightly upon my lower stomach. I still had a bit of a boner from Potter, and just having the knowledge that there was a dick near my own made the matter so much worse. His hair fell into his eyes and he pushed it back in a way that really was quite sexy. Straddling me, his warm brown eyes met my cold blue ones. He leaned downward in a way that applied pressure to just the right place and I could feel my cock getting harder by the second.

I was distracted by how I could possibly hide my huge hard-on, when I felt cool lips meet mine. Tristan kissed me passionately, like he hungered for my lips but at the same time, I could feel him pulling away, almost as though he didn't want this at all. Which I knew couldn't possibly be true, because he had just asked me out on a date.

He suddenly deepened the kiss and I could feel him getting hard against my stomach. He pulled back slightly, looking at me with piercing blue eyes.

 _Wait a second. Weren't his eyes brown a second ago?_ I looked closer and saw his hair, originally a brown color, turning to a color closer to my hair.

"Holy shit! You're a Metamorphagus! That- I had no- that's fucking amazing!"

"Shh… Nobody knows. I just thought that you and I could have a little more fun if you knew about my capabilities. For the most part I stay as my own unique self but I sometimes become a different person entirely. Just for fun, you know?" He smirked at me, slightly rolling his hips into me, releasing a soft moan of pleasure as the friction ran through his crotch. I couldn't help but release a tiny moan, inaudible unless you were in the room.

Which Harry James Potter was. And with the most horrified look on his face. As Tristan leaned in for another kiss, I watched helplessly as Harry turned and fled down the corridor toward the Gryffindor tower.


	15. The Dating Game

I casually strolled into the Great Hall two days later, willing myself not to look at the Gryffindor table. Instead, I focused my attention on my boyfriend, who was smirking at me mischievously. We had already come up with a plan to introduce our relationship to the rest of the school.

But it was at that moment I saw Pansy gazing dreamily at me. I snorted internally. _Fat chance bitch! Even if I wasn't gay, my sworn enemy visited me in the hospital and you didn't._ However, the whole of my Quidditch team had visited me yesterday, which had made my day.

Harry hadn't visited since he walked out on Tristan and I kissing. I kept telling myself not to look at him. I was sure that he would have plenty to say in Potions.

As I neared him, Tristan stood up, pushed me against the wall and practically stuck his tongue down my throat. I kissed him passionately back, but my heart wasn't really in it. It was obvious his wasn't either. He was kissing me with force, but it felt as though he was kissing me as a lead up to sex, and I definitely didn't want that. At least not yet.

There was a slow silence that fell across the Great Hall as everyone watched me make out with my boyfriend. As I came up for breath, I heard a clatter from across the room and heard Harry say, "I'm headed to Potions." He didn't say it loudly, but the Hall was so quiet that everyone heard him. I pushed Tristan off me, muttering, "I have to eat or I'll end up back in the hospital wing."

"That doesn't sound so bad. I've always wanted to try hospital sex." I froze and looked at Tristan, my mouth agape. He wasn't serious, was he? I shook my head and settled in by Avery, as Crabbe and Goyle edged away the slightest bit as I walked toward them. Avery smiled at me warmly, then handed me a plate covered in steaming food. It smelled delicious, and I couldn't help but eat as much as I could before it was time to head to Potions.

I slid into my seat next to Harry, still not looking at him. God, what kind of person, acting like I was too good for him? Pretending I preferred the company of a fake Slytherin over the Golden Boy? Because Tristan was fake, there was no doubt. He had some other agenda planned. He was probably trying to get over someone too. That's… actually kinda cute if you think about it. Two boys, both jilted by their loves, finding love with each other. That's kinda worth a story or something.

"So."

"Oh, uh, huh?" I sputtered.

"You and… _Tristan_ , huh? That must be great for you. Having an older boyfriend. Who'll make out with you in front of everyone. Wonder how many other times he's shoved you against a wall and made out with you in a different position." His voice was icy, and didn't dare look at him.

"What do you care?" I asked. It sounded rude, but I genuinely wanted to know why he was so upset over it.

"Can't you tell he's just after one thing? All he wants is to fuck you, and I don't want you to be taken advantage of like that. You deserve better-"

"And what would you know about what I deserve?! You keep thinking you see the good in me, but there isn't any, Potter! You should know that by now!"

"That's not true and you know it! You could be such an amazing wizard if you would just try a little harder! You could be perfect!"

"How?! I could never be perfect." My voice dropped. "Trust me, I've tried. My family still hated me and I was still a disappointment." Oh shit, what happened to not showing any weakness? Damn I had to fix this and fast. "Not that it's any of your business what my family thinks of me. Some of my family would love me if they knew more about me." Still not what I should have said. I was not doing good today. "What I'm trying to say is that you need to stop worrying about me. I can take care of myself."

Harry opened his mouth to argue, but then seemed to think better of it. He shook his head and began working on his work, ignoring me for the rest of the hour. As the class rounded out, he swept out of the room, with Granger and Weasley scampering after him with some ridiculous story to tell him. I stood to leave, but slightly stumbled, causing Blaise to dart away from Avery and toward me, but I waved him off, hoping he would see that I was just fine.

As I strolled out of the classroom feeling Blaise's concerned eyes on me, still trying to regain my dignity, I saw Tristan waiting for me toward the end of the hall. As I made my way toward him, he grabbed my hand, smiling fondly at me. It seemed odd, especially given his behavior that morning, but I wouldn't complain.

"I wanted to apologize about this morning." Oh good, he realized it was wrong of him to make jokes about having sex. "I saw the way Crabbe and Goyle were looking at you." Wait, what? "It wasn't cool. Just because you're gay doesn't mean they can treat you poorly." So Harry was right. He did want sex. That meant I couldn't trust him when we were alone.

Or maybe I could. After all, I was trying to get over Harry Potter. Maybe this was the way to do it. Yeah… this gave me a great idea…

 **To the person who keeps leaving nasty comments about how terrible this is: if you haven't noticed, I remove them as soon as I see them. So you may as well quit. To those of you who are decent human beings that don't insult people because you don't like something they've written, I would appreciate it if you left a comment containing** ** _constructive_** **criticism, or just letting me know you like my work. I have poll on my profile of which of my stories you like most, results on that will help determine how often each story gets updated. If you take a look at my profile, you'll see which other stories I'm currently working on along with a very rough updating schedule for each of them. I've been having some awful writer's block as of late, so I am far behind on all my updates. If you have any ideas for this story, even if it's just a little scene or character you want, comment or PM me! I'll have to find a way to work it in and it'll really help me with making some new plot points! As always, be sure to leave a review with your thoughts and I'll see you next chapter!**


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